


The Horseman's Lament

by moroiulmeu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroiulmeu/pseuds/moroiulmeu
Summary: Death finds a few moments of much needed peace and quiet in his captivity. Set late into season 5.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	The Horseman's Lament

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with the actual Horsemen when I was very young, so needless to say I did it again when I started watching Supernatural earlier this year, but I have to say I was deeply disappointed in the way they were handled. (Halfway through season 8!)

_**A Horseman's Lament** _

Death staggered a bit as he made his way into the safe house, his vessel aching in every way, his head pounding with less mercy than Lucifer. He didn't bother with the lights, he didn't bother with food, he didn't even remove his coat as he went straight for the rickety, worn out bed he called his own.

He sank onto it before flopping over without ceremony, closing his eyes. He could hear the rain falling outside under the sound of his own ears and dimly wondered if it was his doing or God's. Did it even matter? He put it aside as he felt a familiar set of fingers card their way through his hair, easing some of the tension in his body. No words were needed, the language between them was older than time itself. He was safe for now.

It was nothing to pass false words on the world's radio, time and propriety had long since given the world a false view of the relationships the Horsemen had with one another. They had let it be, not given to caring about the views of others. When the church decided they were all brothers they had even ran with it for cover, because, what else could cause four seemingly male beings be paired off like that?

It had made lying to the Winchesters that much easier, not that Death enjoyed or approved of lies. It was nothing to make all believe the other three had been weak and easy to defeat, to make them think they were powerless, no longer a threat. Nothing further was from the truth, but the idea of them in any kind of danger was more stress than Death was prepared to deal with. The idea of being alone for so long again haunted him. So, they had been led to do exactly what he wanted, they had freed the only three entities in existence that Death truly cared for... That left only him.

He shifted and hissed, his body protesting.

"I told you I would kill him for you," came the deceptively soft voice. It gave no indication of the anger Death could sense.

"You would upset the balance far too much," Death replied.

A sigh of resignation was Famine's only response. Death almost smiled, he didn't have to look to see his twin's expression.

The warmth was short lived as he thought of another. Death had spent so long in chains, what had felt like an eternity, so long he had taught himself to sleep to pass the time, to remove himself from the strain on the vessel he had worn for so long he would hardly know what to do with a new one, to try to ignore the pain in his body, the mind numbing starvation.

When Lucifer had raised him it had hardly been a relief, Death knew what was coming, the weight had been sitting on his mind and shoulders since the first day, heavier than any of the countless chains or hunger. Before the bonds had even fallen off he had been clapped into another pair. A set of invisible shackles he found so much worse. It chewed at his thoughts constantly, it seemed like he had always been bound to someone or something, and always would be.

He recalled the expressions of the other Horsemen as he fell at their feet, covered in filth, starved, shivering, tired, stricken. War and Pestilence had both looked at him in fear. Death was the strong one, the one that looked out for everyone, unflappable, unstoppable, he did not need the care. Death had thought the same thing for so long that his mind still rebelled at the idea he did.

But then he had seen the look of rage in Famine's eyes mixed with pain, there had been no hesitation, he had knelt and taken Death by the arms. It had hurt, the chains had left many a mark that he had been too tired to heal.

Death remembered sitting in the shower, how many had he taken? He had lost count, but still it seemed his skin, though scrubbed raw, felt soiled. The others had given him some privacy for a time and for awhile he simply sat there, the water spilling over his face but doing nothing to clean his thoughts. He was unconscious of anything going on in the safe house until he heard someone enter the bathroom. He caught a faint whiff of something in the air, something that made his insides gnaw at him even worse and instinctively he licked his lips as a pair of white hands came into view.

"Let's get you out of here, there is food in the kitchen... I'm sorry, it's what I could find."

He had tasted his first fast food of the twenty first century that night and never had anything tasted so blissful or so much like a glimmer of hope. He wasn't sure when the stomach pains and nausea flipped from hunger to objection at suddenly being full after so long, but he didn't care. He was clean, he was fed, and he was starting to sway a bit, contemplating a nap. He fell asleep that night in an embrace he had waited centuries for.

He was safe here, he felt, with those loving fingers in his hair, far away from Lucifer, who he knew would not call on him again soon. A shudder ran down his spine, causing Famine to pause. The comment was unspoken, but plain.

To think someone like him, like Death, was in such a position! It caused his insides to knot painfully, twisting up so tightly that he wondered how much longer he could last. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he knew the only thing stopping the other three from going AWOL and taking Lucifer themselves was the idea it could put him in far more danger. He swallowed hard, but it did little to ease the lump in his throat. He heard Famine move behind him and felt a pair of thin but strong arms wrap around him tightly, securely. He slumped so quickly that Death half wondered if the relaxation was caused by the embrace or other means. Famine was, he reasoned, given to such a nature, he had been quite amused to see just how far he had gone with the Winchesters, taking such a feeble appearance, half giving them the ring when it would have been child's play to drop them on the spot.

Fingers graced his jaw, soothing him further, and his heart started to ache for an entirely different reason as Famine sang to him softly in their native tongue. A language long lost to all but the four.

His eyes slipped shut, he was safe here, he repeated to himself, for now he could rest, he did not have to concern himself with the work of Death.

**Author's Note:**

> There is so much in Death's voice and actions when he's talking to Dean for the first time, this is an entity older than the universe and he's still unable to hide his emotions entirely. To think of what Lucifer did to Sam, what in the world did he put someone like Death through?


End file.
